


we could jump in the ocean and sink like stones

by cinderlily



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 17:11:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7276669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderlily/pseuds/cinderlily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day, like every day for the better part of a week, had started with a fight. Tyler had said something off-handed and Jamie had misread it and it had gone from zero to sixty so fast it left Jamie with a splitting headache.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we could jump in the ocean and sink like stones

The day, like every day for the better part of a week, had started with a fight. Tyler had said something off-handed and Jamie had misread it and it had gone from zero to sixty so fast it left Jamie with a splitting headache.

Which, of course, meant he had to leave and do a day of press by himself. With a headache. With Tyler mad at him. And not returning his texts.

It weighed on him throughout the day, like it had every day before. He wasn’t entirely sure what had been going on between the two of them for the last week but it had been a charge in the air. Every day something would set them off. A small mistake on one of their behalf. Dishes left in the sink.

One day they’d made it all the way past lunch before they’d gotten into a fight about whether or not the crease rule should have been enforced in 1999.

(Apparently, Tyler thought it was a little bogus and Jamie was sure he wasn’t hearing that the Cup that his team had hoisted hadn’t been BOGUS.)

He thought that the heat might have something to do with it. Dallas was half way living on the sun and half way living in a sea of thick sweaty air and it had a way of getting under your skin if you let it.

Still.

It grated on him. He wasn’t much for fighting in general, well… emotional fighting. Physical fighting was pretty much par for his course. He was so used to that that if Tyler would just like throw a punch or check him against the wall he was pretty sure he’d handle it quite well.  
(Hell, he might enjoy it.)

But the rub was he didn’t know what the fuck he was supposed to do in an emotional fight. They usually were at a detente by dinner, afterward, they’d let it go or at least not talk about it and go to bed with the weird air hanging above them.

To say it wasn’t how he wanted to spend his days with Tyler before the seasons started was the world’s worst understatement.

All through the interviews, he let the fight play over and over again. It was the type that had no real beginning nor middle. Just a sudden flux of anger that seemed to snap and he had been three sentences into a rant before he knew he was even angry. Tyler had looked at him like he was crazy and the thing was, Jamie couldn’t even remember if he was crazy or not.

“So Mr. Benn,” the third journalist asked. “How are things looking with Tyler?”

Jamie’s brain snapped back to the room and he looked at the interviewer like maybe he could read minds. Like he knew that he was thinking about the fight and that he knew that they were fucked up. Except. Journalists didn’t know they were even a 'they', so how would they know if they were messed up?

“Excuse me?”

The interviewer screwed up her face and tried again. “Um. The whole Achilles thing? How is that going? Do you think he’ll be starting up with this season or is it still touch and go?”

Jamie exhaled. “Okay. Uh. Yes.” He thought back to the canned answer he’d been given earlier in the day by his agent. About the fact that it was touch and go and they were hopeful but not counting on anything yet. They’d rather have one hundred percent Tyler Seguin for seventy-five percent of the season than seventy-five percent of Tyler Seguin for the whole season… Blah blah blah.

Between his third and fourth interview, he texted, “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. Please just text back?”

When it got to his last (seventh) interview of the day and he still hadn’t received an answer he had a huge ball in the pit of his stomach. He almost didn’t want to go home because… well. He didn’t want to think about what might be waiting for him at home.

An angry Tyler. A sad Tyler. … The worst being maybe no Tyler at all. He felt himself going on the offensive even before he got into the car.

He dialed up the smartest person he knew and she answered on the third ring.

“Aww, Jamie… How is my favorite youngest son doing today?”

He smiled despite himself. “You know, I have figured out that it doesn’t count when I’m your only youngest son.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true. Of all of my children you are my favorite youngest…”

“Mom.”

“What?”

He was almost going to tease her when he realized he was missing the point of the whole phone call, to begin with. “I need your help.”

“What’s wrong Jamie?” she said, actual concern snapping on.

He started from the beginning, telling her all about the week since he’d been back in Texas. The way they’d been fighting. The thick air in the house. The daily fights. All the way through that morning and how he hadn’t actually known what the fight was about. About the lack of texts all day.

“I think he might not be there when I get home.”

She made her comforting mom hum, the one he got whether they were talking about losing a series or him missing home. She let the silence be for a minute before she started.

“Okay,” she started. “Jamie, first off you need to take a deep breath. All couples go through this. Love is hard sometimes, but it isn’t hard for always. You need to remember that he chose you. It sounds to me like there is something more to this than just you and him fighting.”

“What do you mean?”

She let out a sigh. “Jamie Randolph, I was there with you this summer. I heard your conversations. You’d think that you were separated for a lifetime and not just a few weeks. It was obvious you were happy and in love. I doubt it just jumps from that to caput within a few extra days.”

Which was true. He had, in fact, spent the better part of his time away from Tyler in direct contact with him via text, phone call, FaceTime and Skype. He would admit it was a little nauseating but he wasn’t above the fact that he didn’t like being separated from people he just really liked, let alone those he loved.

“What do I do?” Jamie asked, voice a little more annoyed than he usually let it get with his mom on the line. “Do I like… give him space?”

“If that’s what he needs. But you have to first _find out what he needs_. Which means, I’m sad to say… you have to use your words. Like a twenty-seven-year-old adult would.”

He made a face. “Gee, thanks mom.”

“What dear? Is it my fault you went and grew up on me? I still half expect my chubby little kid to run in and ask for a milkshake. But you are a million and a half miles away, so I get to chide you from afar.”

He rolled his eyes. “I love you, momma.”

“Love you, too,” she said and clicked her tongue. “Now go home, use your words and try your best not to fight for the night.”

He heard the sudden dead air and checked to make sure that yes, his mother just hung up on him. He wasn’t going to take it personally. She had the habit of ending conversations when she thought it relevant. She always said it gave her an air of mystery. Whatever that meant.

He stared at his steering wheel for a minute, checking once again to see if Tyler had answered his text. He hadn’t, but the little message under his text said that it had been seen a few minute before. His stomach clenched a little tighter.

“ _On my way home._ ” he texted, this time not expecting a response.

At the very least his conversation with his mom gave him an idea. He would go home with a peace offering, one that would do the job of cheering Tyler up while also giving him an in to talk with Tyler in a way that kept things light. He turned his car on and backed up, heading in the opposite direction of home.

*

A little under an hour later he walked through the door from the garage into his house, thankful that he’d seen Tyler’s car in its usual parking spot. In his hands, he had two different shakes. One was his standard favorite, Peanut Butter protein and strawberries and in the other was one with a mess of berries and nuts with gummy bears because Tyler was healthy but also a little bit of a kid. (Which he really true loved about him.)

He hesitated before calling out. “Ty?”

There was a long silence and it was nerve-wracking to a degree Jamie wasn’t prepared for.

“Tyler?”

He walked in towards the kitchen and living room, figuring that those were the best he could aim for. Instead of finding Tyler in there he found a giant as fuck mess in the kitchen. Pots and pans, dishes and silverware everywhere. On one hand in smelled absolutely amazing, on the other hand, _holy fuck_ he’d been gone for like eight hours. Tops.

He felt warm air coming from outside and realized that the screen door was the only thing keeping the back door from being totally opened. He placed the two shakes in the freezer, a little nervous that they’d melt if he brought them outside.

Their backyard was purposefully not that busy. There was a pool, gated in for his teammates' gaggle of children, and a huge grassy area for people (and dogs) to run around in. But tonight it was far from that. There were long strings of white Christmas lights that went in each direction.

Music played over the loudspeaker, and for once it wasn’t loud and thumping but just simple background music. It didn’t even have words. Jamie was beginning to feel suspicious.

Cash and Marshall were suddenly at his feet, Cash jumping straight up in the air and licking his hands and then his face when he leaned over a little.

“Hey guys,” he said, wearily. “Where’s daddy?”

Marshall barked in the way he always did when he heard the word ‘daddy’ and bounded back to the large grassy area off in the back. Tentatively Jamie followed behind him, stuffing the keys he still had in his hands in his pocket. He walked towards Marshall’s happy barking and saw that the small island of the patio in the back was also lit up.

And there was Tyler.

Who looked, quite frankly, like he was about to get scolded like one of the puppies. Jamie felt guilty that they were both walking on eggshells.

“Hey Tyler?” he asking, as gentle as if he were trying to calm a horse.

“Hey Jamie,” Tyler said, a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “How was your day?”

Jamie walked closer and saw that there were plates on the table. Plates that seemed to be filled with foods that actually looked pretty damn good. It had smelled good inside. He was almost on the island. “It was good. I mean, horrible and awful and man I fucking hate interviews but you know… It’s over?”

“You hungry?”

He wasn’t, actually, he’d drank a good chunk of his milkshake in his car on the way to get home and he was also a little anxious … but. “Yeah, of course.”

The table was the one they’d bought on sale at a Target and wasn’t nearly big enough to really fit the two of them without them bumping legs but it actually felt good to have his legs tangled up with Tyler’s. They sat down across from each other and Tyler offered him a beer which Jamie gratefully took. It was one of his favorite brands, a hard one to find below the border. Tyler had to have hunted it down.

A twisted thought flitted through his brain. This was either really good news or really bad, there was very little space for in between. He looked up from his beer to gauge Tyler, but Tyler was looking down at the food and poking at it.

“I thought you’d be home sooner, it might be a little cold,” Tyler frowned.

“Fuck, I… I stopped and got us some milkshakes. They’re in the freezer?”

Tyler smiled up at him, small but an honest to goodness smile and Jamie didn’t quite know how to react. “Well, between that and the cake we’ll have a fucking awesome dessert, right?”

Jamie tilted his head and smiled back. Cause fuck it, still got weeks till actual preseason and if it got that smile on Tyler’s face it was beyond worth it to him.

“Maybe I should reheat the grill,” Tyler said, absent-mindedly.

“No!” Jamie answered way too loud and Cash barked up at him like he was personally offending him. “Sorry Cash.”

Simultaneously Tyler scolded Cash with a rebuke, “ **Cash**.”

“I startled him,” Jamie said, irrationally caring about the dog who had cowered for about a half a second then jumped away after a bug that was flying back. “He was just responding to me…”

Something flitted across Tyler’s face too fast for him to really catch it. Was it annoyance? He hated that he couldn’t catch it. The dogs were technically Tyler’s after all, he’d just kind of inherited them when he moved in. He wondered if this was where the next fight started and felt his spine begin to go more rigid.

But it didn’t. Instead, Tyler waved to the table. “Come on, let’s sit down. We can decide who gets to be the nice Dad later.”

He was seated before he really thought how weighted that sentence could have actually been. His face felt a little hotter at the thought of being good Dad/ bad Dad. Even though admittedly, it was with dogs, it felt like a step or something. One that he wasn’t actually against. A step forward was a million times preferable to a step back.

The steak on the plate was pretty much cold, but on the good side, it was pretty red in the middle so Jamie wasn’t complaining. He also had been the one to tell Tyler he was on the way when he’d gone out of his way and taken twice as long, as usual, to get home. He drank the cool beer and ate the cold steak and kept catching himself looking up at Tyler waiting for something.

For what he wasn’t exactly sure.

Tyler seemed to be looking down at his food more than he was actually eating and it was somewhat disconcerting. Cold or not, Tyler was not one to turn down a freaking steak.

Jamie shifted. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” Tyler blinked at him.

“For this morning, I was in a bad mood and I let things out. To be honest I don’t even know what we fought about. I’ve been… It’s been. The mood has been weird since we got home. I guess I was letting it get to me and I must have…”

Tyler put a hand out, not quite touching Jamie’s but it was close enough to startle him. “Shut up.”

Jamie looked at him with wide eyes. It didn’t exactly sound like a positive comment. He nodded. “O…okay.”

“It’s been shit since you got back,” Tyler said. “Wait, scratch that. _I’ve been shit_ since I got back. Even before you got home, I’ve been cranky and annoying.”

Jame was going to interject but didn’t want to get shot down again.

Tyler fidgeted with his plate a little and looked up at Jamie. “What exactly is this? I mean, beyond being something that the two of us really like and living together.”

“What the hell do you mean, ‘like’?” Jamie said, sounding a lot more hurt than he’d intended. “We say ‘I love you’. We share a house, we share a freaking mortgage. We share puppies…”

As if hearing the reference Cash came up to put his head on Jamie’s knee. A clear ‘no’ in their house, something he’d been trained not to do but Jamie put his hand on top of Cash’s head and rubbed at his ears. Afraid he might be taking all the bad vibes in.

“Is this a _thing_?”

“Fucking A, Tyler,” Jamie groaned. “We’re dating. We’re living together. Is that what this week has been?”

Tyler rolled his shoulders, not a shrug but might as well be. “My Achilles is taking a while to catch up. More than the amount given to me.”

“And?”

“What if there is nothing they can do? What if there is a chance I don’t come back the way they want me to? How long does that give me? What leverage does that give me?”

Jamie felt the food in his stomach churn uncomfortably. “It brings you to 2019. Where you will be signed with the Dallas Stars for an extension and your big contract.”

“Jamie, be realistic here if I am not making the right plays, 2019 is a season and a half away. How much loyalty do a few good seasons give me? Not much, I can tell you that…”

It was like the last few puzzle pieces put themselves together on their own accord, Jamie just had to look as they did. The stupid nitpicking fights. The annoyance when he was leaving to go to the ice. The annoyance when Tyler came home from yet another meeting or physical therapy session.

“First of all,” Jamie said, collecting himself and hearing his mom repeat the phrase ‘use your words’ over and over again in the back of his head. “I don’t care if you have a rocky start this year, you’re coming back golden just like always. You are Tyler freaking Seguin. You are my liney, no matter what.”

Tyler made a face but Jamie persevered.

“Even if you WEREN’T my freaking liney, even if you never played hockey. Hell, even if I had to explain every part of each game, you are my boyfriend. I love you. I don’t care what your stats are.”

“They might MOVE me. How would we be together if I was a fucking Canuck!”

His tongue stuck out like he’d tasted something gross. “Tyler, you know we don’t say the C word in our house, fucker.”

“Don’t make jokes, Jamie,” Tyler sagged back into his chair.

The sheer weight of what must have been on Tyler this summer hit Jamie like a truck. “Dude. You are not getting traded to the Canucks. Or the Leafs. Or hell, I don’t know, the Coyotes. But if you miraculously did, in 3 years, we’d deal with it. The season would suck, for sure.

“But you know. People do the long distance thing a lot more than we do and they have it shittier than we would. We’d at very least see each other a few games a year. We’d travel to see each other. We’d have every break and the offseason.”

Tyler looked him up and down. “Long distance?”

“Yeah, fucker. Long distance. What we would be if you _freakishly and stupidly_ got traded to another team. Hell, if you started playing in the KHL we’d make it work… but please don’t play for the KHL.”

Tyler gave a small smile. “I know, Putin’s face scares you.”

“His eyes are too small for his face,” Jamie snapped. “It’s freaky and wrong. But I’d still fly to that crazy man’s country to see you.”

“Well, I guess that makes this next part easier…”

Jamie tilted his head to one side. “What part?”

Tyler shifted a little in his seat and grabbed out a box from his pocket. He placed it on the center of the table and Jamie stared at it open-mouthed for a long few moments. There were about two hundred things that seemed to be going through his brain, but the chief voice was screaming, ‘Oh my Gd, open the fucking box’ so he followed it.

It was a simple thick black band, three inset stones.

“Dude, are you…?”

Tyler laughed. “Well, I’d be on one knee but it would freaking kill me to get back up.”

“You… you’re fucking serious?”

“We don’t have to do it right _now_ , if that’s a thing. Like, I mean, after. After all this. When we’re old men who hate our bodies cause hockey beat the crap out of them and we’re living in this stupidly big house with our four dogs and you know… we could maybe adopt a kid or two…”

Jamie’s brain went into momentary overload at the kid’s comment but you know. That was a thing he wanted, too. He’d just conveniently _not_ brought it up to Tyler. Just in case. “What do you mean FOUR dogs?”

“The dog thing, that’s what we’re going to focus on?” Tyler laughed, clutching at his chest and wheezing a bit. Both dogs seemed bothered by the whole proceedings (well that and the steak that was still on the table. They Cash kept nuzzling at Jamie while Marshall jumped at Tyler.

Jamie started to chuckle, cause okay. Maybe a weird thing to focus on. But this whole thing was a little freaking out of his zone of comfort. He’d steeled himself on the drive home for the attack, not for a _ring_ nestled in a stupid box on the center of his table. He stole a glance back at it and didn’t think twice before slipping it onto his hand. On the right side, which sucked a little but possibly getting called out for having a ring on his ENGAGEMENT finger would be a not so fresh way to start the season.

“I don’t have a ring for you,” Jamie sighed but then he tilted his head. “Wait, wait.”

And he jumped up and sprung towards the house, in through the kitchen, Cash and Marshall yipping happily at his feet. He made it to his closet (yes, they had two closets in their bedroom and it was something Jamie was eternally grateful for as Tyler’s is almost overfull.) He looked through his jewelry box till he found what he was looking for.

It wasn’t as ornate as the one on the table on his own hand, in fact, it was the exact opposite. A hand me down from his great grandpa that had been meant for _him_ to wear when he’d “met the right lady” but that wasn’t a concern anymore. (Nor had it been even when the ring was given to him, his mom was completely aware of the way his son loved.)

He ran back out and found Tyler seated exactly where he had been, looking a somehow even more nervous than when he’d left him. Without much internal debate, Jamie dropped to one knee.

“No fucking fair,” Tyler groaned.

“Okay, screw you,” Jamie said, smile so wide it hurt. “But marry me?”

Tyler took Jamie by the hand and made him kneel up towards him and kissed “You had a ring?”

“It’s not like your ring,” Jamie said, a little awkwardly. “It’s my great grandfathers, so you know. This can be an engagement ring if you want an upgrade.”

Tyler poked at the center of Jamie’s forehead. “This is mine now, no take backs.”

He slipped the ring on his right finger like Jamie had, neither saying a word about the fact that they had to have some real discussions about whether or not they’d have to wait a half a decade before they switched it to the other side.

Tyler kissed him over and over again. “So is that a ‘yes’?”

“What?” Jamie said, not paying attention to the words, but instead to the fact that he was being kissed, quite well, and over and over again.

Tyler stopped and pushed him away. “You have to say ‘yes’, dumbass.”

“Yes dumbass,” he smiled, almost pressing his lips to Tyler’s. “Now you.”

“Uhhh,” Tyler played dumb until Jamie almost bit Tyler's lip. “I asked you first, so yes.”

*

The next morning, after they woke up for the third time, they fought again. This time, it was who’s mom they’d call first. Which was settled quickly by the fact that the two of realizing they each had phones with FaceTime. Which was all well and good until his mom insisted they face her towards Jackie because they needed to talk.

(The phrase, “Thank fuck they are done being morons” was said and he was distinctly ruffled. He knew it was true but whatever.)

 

 

_"So I'll spend the night looking into your eyes_

_Because I want to remember them if I ever fall blind_

_We could jump in the ocean and sink like stones but that's ok with me baby 'cause I'll be next to your bones"_

Bones by Lewis Watson


End file.
